


Moving On

by izzyb



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M, Five Acts meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyb/pseuds/izzyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gloomy weather doesn't bode well for their evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the five acts meme for darkjediprinces. Acts included: domesticity, first times, and touching. Spoilers for end of first anime.

The thunder sounds outside as they are getting ready, breaking up the silence Riza had asked for so that she could get dressed in peace. Roy assumes she means noise of any kind, so resists playing a record or even humming under his breath as he shrugs into his shirt and buttons up his trousers. Black Hayate, apparently deciding his mistress is too busy for him, nudges his nose against Roy’s leg until he absently bends to pet him.

Straightening, Roy crosses to the window and throws an irritated glance up at the sky. The gloomy weather doesn’t bode well for their evening, especially since he will have to forgo his gloves if it starts raining.

Not that Riza would want him to wear them out, but with a few enemies still at large and Ed unaccounted for, Roy feels better when he at least has a chance of self-defense beyond his capable bodyguard. He’ll put them in his pocket just in case.

Decision made, he pats his pocket, adjusts his eye patch, then strides into the main room, boots clicking only slightly on the wooden floor, only to stop short when he sees her.

“Pick up your jaw, Roy,” she says, as if she’s in her usual no-nonsense uniform and not in a snug black dress that fits all her curves in just the right way. She puts on her coat, also black. “We’re going to be late.”

“But—you’re,” he clears his throat. “You look very nice, Riza.”

Her smile is brief, so brief he misses it intensely when it’s gone. Shaking off the chill that runs up his spine at how long it has been since she’s laughed or, hell, even smiled for more than a second, he dons his own coat and gestures to the door.

“After you.”

She hesitates, but walks out, giving him an unreadable expression over her shoulder.

The drive to restaurant is silent. Neither one mentions that it’s the first time they have been out together since the shooting, but the thought seems to hang in the air of the vehicle like pungent smoke from one of Havoc’s cigarettes.

After pulling into a spot a block or so away from their destination, Riza clicks off the engine and stills, hands clenched on the wheel.

“Riza,” Roy says, “Riza.” She finally, _finally_ looks at him. He runs a knuckle down the side of her face and she turns into the touch. “These are our friends—it will be okay.”

She nods and they get out and walk to the front door. Before pushing it open, though, Riza takes his hand in hers and squeezes it, giving him another smile as if he’s the one that needs reassurance, heaven help them all, before releasing it. All too soon, they’re inside and hearing Fuery say, “about time you guys showed up!” Havoc echoes with something similar.

As the door closes behind them, it starts to rain.


End file.
